


Se Trouver

by bessmertny



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, angst again, are ruining my life, hahaha, this two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7356508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessmertny/pseuds/bessmertny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nesta had no idea where she was or what happened.</p>
<p>She only knew that she wanted to go away, away from them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Se Trouver

Nesta had no idea where she was or what happened.

She only knew that she wanted to go away, away from them all.

Away from the way they looked at her, like she was about to explode.

Away from Elain and all her whispered questions about her mate,- who was he, who was he, who was he- from Rhysand and his heartbreak, from her own guilt, from the weight of Feyre’s absence, from her own damned Fae body, from Feyre’s new friends and their kindness, from the cries of pain coming from Cassian’s room.

Whatever she managed to do-did she just winnowed?- left her so dizzy she made only three steps before falling on the ground, the sharp pain at her knees clearing her head a bit.

She loathed this.

Not understanding what was happening, being sheltered when she obviously didn’t need it, all the careful steps around her like she was a porcelain doll about to break.

And that tread, that invisible pull toward Cassian that she couldn’t control, her own stupid heart just another thing in the list of things she had no power over.

She was out of breath, like she ran miles and miles when she started screaming and pulling at her hair.

She didn’t want this.

It wasn’t fair.

She had control over her mortal life. She knew, to some extent, how it would go;

she would travel, marry a good man who cared for her, have children and love them, moved mountains to know that her sisters were well and that would be it, than it would all end.

And it was all taken from her, like a carpet from under her feet, and all she had now was this eternity that seemed endlessly empty.

She looked in front of her and there was only sky, the never ending mane of the night.

She hated herself, how her emotions were now a whirlwind inside her, ever changing and never settling with just two thoughts keeping her together : she would see her sisters happy with those males if it depended on her life, and the promise she’d made.

_Kill the king, kill the king, kill the king_.

 

A litany in her brain, it would keep her awake at night, making her remember exactly why this new body was a good thing, how it could be useful to get Feyre back from that stupid High Lord who thought her sister was an object.

Feyre’s absence was something that was slowly killing all of them, lacing her anger with a deep sadness, her sister snatched away just when they decided to start over and Elain, her loss in trying to understand this mating thing. She wanted to help her sisters with everything she had but she couldn’t and it made her feel useless. Lost and vulnerable in a way she hated, that she was barely able to hide with the others.

But not to _him_.

———-

He knew she was gone in the exact second she winnowed.

It was like a fist in the center of his chest.

Cassian got out of his bed immediately, the bandage on his torso seeming tighter, crushing.

He went out of his room, looking if someone was out, but the house seemed at sleep.

_Nesta_

 He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how.

He saw the walls around her get thicker and thicker each day at a point which she barely talked to Elain, and if she closed herself to her sister, there wasn’t a chance in hell she would talk to him.

But he didn’t need to talk to her to see right through her.

She was angry, that much was painfully clear. Her anger was now a constant, how she kept herself together with her rage, how she hid herself behind it, like it didn’t took him just a glance to see how she was on the verge of falling apart.

He didn’t want it to happen to her and would do anything to prevent it and he knew it was his fault.

He promised he would protect her, and he failed her. He didn’t regret protecting Azriel, he would die for his brother, but her screams still haunted him.

But how can he help her when he can barely keep himself together?

If his wings wouldn’t grow back, what would it be of him?

All his work, the starving, the loneliness, the fights, the wars, everything, it will all be in vain.

A bastard-born, and nothing more.

He shook his head. He had to find her, he had to be sure she was fine and she could even tell him to go to hell after but he had to see her with his eyes.

The cold night air caressed his face, awakening him.

He could smell her, she wasn’t far.

He could feel her, deep inside his bones, an indivisible part of his very being.

If he could fly, he thought , this might have been faster and easier, but he obviously had to do it the old fashioned way.

He ran, entering the woods, following her scent until he heard the screams.

It destroyed him.

Like the nightmares that left him hollow, the darkness and the extreme pain he felt in those moments and her screams, her raging at those bastards. He woke up every time with the need to hold her, to shield her and that beautiful fire of hers from all the people who wanted to put it down.

But this screams were different.

There was rage in them, yes, but also fear, desperation and loneliness.

He eased his run in a walk, until he was in front of her.

She screamed and screamed until her lungs gave out, her hands fists in her blond hair, her face mere inches above the ground, until she spotted him.

Her eyes want wide and she tried to get up, to play it like nothing happened, no doubt hating the fact that him of all people had to see her like this .

He moved, he couldn’t help himself, he moved and moved until he was on knees in front of her.

A weak, closed fist met his chest and then another, her eyes wild, as she moved closer to him.

“ _Go away, go away, go away_ ” she said, hitting him until she was so exhausted she rested her head on his chest, her hands gripping his shoulders, keeping him near. Like she thought he would go away, like it was even possible for him to live her.

——

She wanted to hurt him.

She wanted to hit him, to cut and claw at him, wanted to scream at him how empty his promises were, how heartless and cruel, but she couldn’t.

And that’s what she hated more, the fact that despite anything, she didn’t want to hurt him.

Not now, not like this.

She saw how what happened to his wings nearly destroyed him, and how he didn’t regret it, how he still tried to smile to his friend, Azriel, to try to ease his worry and guilt how he tried, always, for the people he loved.

Nesta didn’t expect nothing less from him.

She knew he saw her, that he wanted to talk to her.

She counted every glance, every time she found him in front of her room, looking at her and opening his mouth as if to speak just to close it and disappear along the corridor.

Or when they were all together, the worried look on his face that had the power to close her throat every time.

But she refused and refused, steeling herself with her wrath and going on like the worry for his own situation didn’t gnaw at her, only asking about him to others.

She didn’t need him, she needed no one, she preferred to drown in her rage than ask for help to him, to any of them.

And now here they were.

——

He stroked her hair while she cried, sobbing so hard her body was shaking with the force of it.

And so was he.

Crying and biting his lower lip.

For his wings, for her human life, for the war and for how scared shitless he was of losing someone he loved.

He didn’t even noticed how tangled they were to one another until her arms slowly, gently, circled his neck, so careful not to hurt his back.

He closed his eyes at the tenderness of her gesture, her smell calming him and making an utter mess of him, all at once.

 

“An oath, Nesta Archeron,” his voice croaked, the emotion in it completely out of his control, lifting her head up, his eyes on her “ or perhaps a bet ” he tried to joke, but they both knew, _they knew_.

The ghost of a smirk on her lips.

“Let me be with you when you need it” he urged, the need in his voice so strong it was a kindness he was already on the ground, he needed to see her happy, needed to know she wouldn’t hate herself and who she now was for the rest of eternity.

“ _I can-please let me-I-_ ” he stopped, the words out of him incoherent, he didn’t even know if he was doing this more for her sake or his.

He didn’t want to know how he’d react if this part of her was trusted to someone who wasn’t him.

“You can see me” she said gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise.

He knew what she meant.

“ _And I hate you for it_ ”

Cold, a coldness he never felt spread in his chest, his breath caught in his throat. Then she gripped the sides of his face like she did something that felt like centuries ago, when _everything_ was different expect for _this_ .

“ But _you can_ see me.”

Her forehead on his, her scent gripping every part of him so strongly it took everything in him, everything, to stay perfectly still, because that’s what she needed from him now.

He knew this moment was bound to change things between them, giving birth to something they will never be able to erase or ignore.

“I will be here for you. I know I failed you when you needed but I will do it if you want me too,” he said, taking her hands from his shoulders and lacing their fingers together.

“ I _am_ here for you.”

She closed her eyes with all her might and he could see from the firm set of her jaw what was about to come out of those lips.

That she did not need him, never did and never will.

But she opened her eyes, the grip on his hands so hard her knuckles whitened and whispered,

“ _And I for you_.”


End file.
